


Partition

by CrashLol



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/F, Gun Violence, Historical AU, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Roaring 20s AU, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-08 12:05:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3208532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrashLol/pseuds/CrashLol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Korra is an immigrant in the Roaring Twenties fresh off the boat from the war-torn Water Tribe who struggles to make her way in the heavily segregated and xenophobic Republic City. However, her life is changed forever when she stumbles into a speakeasy and crosses paths with the high-society Asami Sato, heiress to Future Industries. Historical AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. If I Were a Boy

**Author's Note:**

> So what was just supposed to be a smutty one shot inspired by "Partition" by Beyonce somehow turned into a big multipchapter fic, I literally have no idea how. I will still finish Traditions, so don't panic! I'll just be doing the two fics simultaneously since I only have a couple more chapters left on Traditions.  
> I apologize for historical inaccuracies and excessive use of 20s slang hahaha research beyond a couple google searches? Whats that? Lol  
> Just for background, Republic City is like the US (specifically New York), the Earth Kingdom is like Western Europe, and the Water Tribe is like lol idk Western Asia? Siberia? Can someone who knows more about this time period help me out? Thanks  
> So yeah, I've actually gotten pretty attached to this story (why god why) so I hope you like it
> 
> Warning: strong historical references to prostitution, sexism, racism, and xenophobia; blood and violence, including gun violence 
> 
> Building romance then eventual smutty goodness later on :D

Korra pulled her rugged old coat tighter around her chest as she braced herself against the biting winter wind blowing down the street, her large white dog bouncing beside her, clearly unbothered by the poor weather. Her boots crunched against the fresh snow from the previous night as she approached the noisy bustling factory of brick walls blackened with soot. Typically the cold city would not bother her as it hardly held a candle to the long, harsh winters of her native homeland but it was a lonely cold that sunk deep under the surface of the skin, and she had been wandering in it all day.

“Wait here, Naga. I’ll be right back.” The dog sat in the snow and whined in disapproval but was determined to obey.

Korra reached the metal door of the factory that read “Future Industries: Small Parts Division” on the window and gritted her teeth as she wrapped her bare fingers around the freezing handle. She pulled it open and quickly stepped inside, kicking the snow off her boots. She had barely closed the door behind her when a voice croaked from the desk across the room.

“Forget it, lady, we don’t hire women here, never mind foreign women.” Korra turned to find a balding sitting behind the desk, his gaze fixated on the papers in front of him as his pen scribbled quickly across the page. She took off her shabby cloche hat and wrung it nervously in her hands. She was hardly a timid person and would usually grab someone by their collar without hesitation when they disrespected her but after visiting several factories over the last two days she had figured out that that particular strategy would not do her any good. She would have to approach the job search with more modesty.

“Um, yeah, that’s what all the other factories said, but please hear me out. I’m really tough, I grew up on a farm. I can handle anything thrown my way-“

“Look, I get it, you’re all desperate because of all that civil war baloney back in that icy hell hole you call home but it’s not my problem. So just do us both a favor and get out.”

“Sir please, this is the twelfth place I’ve been to just today. I’ve been all over town, both Future Industries and Cabbage Corp. I’ve only got a single quarter in my pocket and I’ve got to get a job-“

“I thought I told you to beat it.” The man still had not looked up from the forms he was scrawling on. She was starting to lose her patience, and anyone who knew her would have known that was a very bad thing. She squeezed her hat in her fists and gritted her teeth.

“All right, that’s it. I tried being polite, now it’s time to do things my way.” She took a step towards the man, who slammed his pen down on the stack of papers and glared at her as he opened a drawer in the desk and pulled something out. He rested his elbow on the paper and pointed the object at her. Her eyes grew wide as she realized it was a small pistol.

“I’m going to give you to the count of three to get the hell out.” Korra froze in place, her heart stopped and her breath caught in her lungs.

“One.”

She stared down into the barrel of the pistol— a tiny black hole that held the most painful memories.

“Two.” He cocked the pistol and Korra shut her eyes tight as the two loud shots that stole everything from her replayed in her head, just as real as that day long ago.

Korra was out the door and down the street before she was even aware she was moving at all. She never ran from fights but the deadly force of the gun was a lesson that had been deeply ingrained in her years ago. She ran and ran until she tripped and fell face flat in the snow. She balled her fists and pushed herself up out of snow, teeth gritted and eyes squeezed shut against the freezing sting on her face and the salty bite at the corners of her eyes.

She stood up clumsily and stumbled into an alleyway directly next to her and slumped down against the wall, sliding to the snowy ground. She wiped her face on the inside of her coat and looked out at the street she came off of only to find it was completely abandoned. Night had fallen and the lane was lit only by a few rare street lights and the dim windows above. Fear and panic started to come over her as she realized she had no idea where she was and stray flakes began to fall from the sky. She jumped when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye but relaxed when she realized it was Naga who had padded over happily and sat down next to her.

“I’m sorry, Naga…” She wrapped her arms around the dog’s broad shoulders and buried her face in her warm fur. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save them…”

Suddenly the dog stood up and stared down the dark alleyway. She sniffed the air and barked once before sprinting into the darkness, waving her tail excitedly behind her.

“Naga! Wait!” Korra jumped to her feet and chased after the dog deep into the dark alley. She came to a cross where another alley ran though the one she was in and stopped in her tracks. She looked around to try to figure out which way her dog could have gone but several barks accompanied by angry yelling a short way to her left answered that question for her. She ran towards the barking and found Naga looking up at a grisly old man standing under a light that illuminated an unmarked door.

“Hey! What’s the big deal, mutt? Scram!”

“Naga! Heel!” The dog turned quickly to greet her, panting and wagging, and she ran towards them. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know why she’s so bothered right now.” The old man just shrugged and sat back down in the wooden chair next to the door.

“Eh, I guess it’s not a problem. Nobody else seems to care about dogs running around this joint.” Korra blinked a few times in confusion before the smell of food and the sound of upbeat music and voices from behind the door made her realize he was referring to whatever was inside. She looked about the door and wall for any indication as to the identity of the place but found no markers.

“What’s in there?” The old man scowled and crossed his arms.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Korra narrowed her eyebrows and crossed her own arms to meet the man’s coldness.

“Well, I did ask so yes, I would.” Suddenly the door opened and she was completely caught off guard when a sturdy, muscular young man she had never seen before threw an arm around her shoulders.

“Hey! You made it! How was your trip? You’ll have to tell me all about it!”

“Umm…” She looked the young man up and down awkwardly. She figured he was about the same age as her from his large green eyes that were bright enough to light up the whole alley. He wore a plain white shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows under a dark green wool vest with brown knickers and a worn plaid ivy hat on top of his head. She turned her head to look at the arm draped over her shoulders to find a dark tattoo of a scantily clad young woman posed prominently on his forearm. He turned back to the old man with a smile.

“It’s alright, Toza, she’s with me! She’s my, uh… Friend’s sister’s husband’s cousin!” The old man just blew air past his thin lips as the young man led her inside with Naga in tow. The door closed behind them and he led the two halfway down one series of stairs before speaking again.

“Don’t worry about that guy, he’s just an old grouch, but I guess that makes him a good doorman. Still have to check on him every now and then to make sure he’s dead or asleep.. I’m Bolin, by the way. And you’re…?” Korra was still very skeptical of him but the warmth and smell of food coming from the bottom of the stairwell were far too inviting to refuse.

“Korra. And this is Naga.”

“Water Tribe?” He inquired conversationally as he led her round another corner in the stairwell, bringing them closer to the sounds of music and voices.

“Yes. How far underground is this place anyway?” He let out a breathy laugh as they came into view of a large room full of music, furniture, smoke, and all kinds of people.

“Far enough so the bull can’t hear us from the street!” He yelled over the small jazz band situated near the stairs and took her wrist as they made their way through the lively crowd.

“So, what is this place?” She yelled back as he led her past the large bar full of drunken patrons.

“This is Zolt’s Place! Lightning Blot Zolt!” Bolin pointed over to a hard-faced man sitting at the end of the bar chewing on a cigar in a crisp, white fedora and matching double-breasted suit. He had thick grey sideburns and eyebrows. Two provocatively dressed Water Tribe women clung to each of his arms. “He’s a, uh- widely respected business man in this city. My brother and I run this ‘speakeasy plus’ for him.”

“‘Plus’? What’s the ‘plus’? Bolin, were those women-” She was suddenly interrupted by loud cheering from the patrons around her who were standing on tables and chairs to look over the heads of the others in front of them. Bolin let go of her wrist to push his way through the crowd. When he finally stopped he was leaned against a waist high wooden wall. She fought her way to the wall and looked down into a dirty pit where two shirtless men were throwing punches and knocking each other around the ring.

“Here’s your ‘plus’!” A giant grin spread across Korra’s face as she watched one of the men take a series of back to back punches to the face before falling to the floor.

“What are the rules?” She shouted over the boisterous crowd.

“It’s bare-knuckle boxing, there are no rules!” He answered as a man in a white shirt and black ivy cap vaulted over the wall and grabbed the winner’s wrist hoisting his bloodied fist into the air for all to see as some cheered and others groaned, and money was passed around in a chaos, dollar bills flying and coins falling to the floor. “Just keep your blows up and away from the waist and you’re good! Soooo, you must be pretty parched. Can I buy you a-” Korra suddenly turned to Bolin and excitedly grabbed his collar.

“Put me in! I want in!” He threw his hands up between them.

“Whoa, hell no! Are you crazy? I can’t put a dame in there!” He glanced over his shoulder at the ring and pried her hands off his collar. “Hold on, I’ve gotta go!” Korra pouted as he swung his legs over the wall and grabbed a bullhorn off a hook.

“Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for your winner, my personal favorite and yours, my brother, Makooo!” The tall, brooding man appeared entirely apathetic to the cheers as he spat a hunk of blood onto the dirty floor before hoisting himself through the small open door at the far end of the ring.

“Who’s next, who’s next, who’s next? Gentlemen, who do we have next?” He was met with whoops and hollers as a large, muscled man with a heavily scarred face and a barrel-chest covered in tattoos jumped into the ring. Korra quickly slipped off her trench coat and cloche hat and handed it to a random man next to her.

“Hold this.” He looked at her bewildered and confused but she did not notice him through her determination as she put her hands on the wall.

“Oh ho ho! Ladies and gentlemen, Sheng. The. Destroyer!” The place erupted as the brutish man flexed his muscle, showing off every scar and dark fading tattoo. “My oh my, who out there is brave enough to face off against, by far, the most hard boiled guy in this gin mill?”

“I’ve got this guy!” Korra shouted as she landed in the ring and was met with a combination of whistles and laughter, which she ignored as she focused on her opponent. Bolin squeaked and went wide eyed.

“Ahaha, yeah, one moment folks!” He tucked the bullhorn under his arms and rushed to Korra. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Exactly what I said, I’m going to fight this guy.” She earned more whistled as she unbuttoned her blue plaid vest that matched her trousers and draped it on Bolin’s arms that were outstretched in disbelief.

“No no no no no no, you _can’t_ fight this guy! Um, why are you wearing guy’s clothes anyway? Forget it! Look, I know you’re new here and you don’t really know what’s what so I’m going to fill you in. Sheng will kill you, okay? He just escaped from jail. You want to know what put him there? He beat six people to death. With his fists. Four dames, two saps. He doesn’t care who you are. He. Will. Kill-“ The cheers and whistling intensified as Korra unbuttoned her shirt, previously white but browned from age and use. Bolin pursed his lips and politely looked away until she had removed her shirt and tossed it onto him with her vest, leaving her in a dirty white sleeveless undershirt.

“Trust me, I’ve got this.” He was about to protest again when she pushed him towards the end edge of the ring with a one-handed shove and the man in the white suit took the bullhorn from him.

“Bets are open, folks! Who’s in on Sheng?” Money began to fly about the room again as Korra’s stretched out her muscles and rolled her shoulders. “What about the girl? Who’s in on the girl?” The entire room fell uncharacteristically silent, even the jazz band had stopped playing, and it occurred to her that the entirety of the speakeasy must had stopped what they were doing to watch some unknown cocky girl face off against “Sheng the Destroyer”.

“Come now, let’s be fair here! Won’t _someone_ put their money on the girl?”

“Twenty on the girl.” The turning of heads was almost deafening and Korra became suddenly aware of a raised platform a short way from the ring that was clearly the VIP section due to intricate carpet, delicate lighting, and well-dressed patrons seated at cloth-covered tables behind a bronze railing that separated them from the drop down into the rest of the club.

The voice belonged to a tall elegant woman in a crimson tabard dress that dropped to the middle of her shins, with a low sloping neckline, that would not doubt bare all if she leaned forward, and a long white fur shawl that draped around her shoulders, held in place in the crooks of her elbows. Long black hair cascaded out the back of her matching wide-brimmed hat with a short black veil that hid her eyes but left her thin nose and blood red painted lips visible; though from the bottom of the pit Korra caught a brief glimpse of a bright green eye that seemed to pierce into her very soul. The silence dissipated after Zolt let out a long whistle.

“Twenty from the lady in red! Now we’re on the trolley! Anyone else? Anyone? No? Ah well, good enough. Who’s ready for some blood?” The room erupted once again as Zolt climbed out of the ring, dragging a panicked Bolin with him. The young man wrung his hat in his strong hands as he rushed to his brother who was leaning again the short wall, looking down into the pit.

“Oh man, Mako, I’ve really balled up this time! He’s going to bump her off like a horsefly!” Mako just shrugged and slipped his cap on.

“And how,” he agreed in apparent disinterest before turning around to head for the bar.

“Hey, what’s eating you? You’ve been a wet blanket all day!” Mako stopped in his tracks and stared down at the floor in front of him but did not answer his brother for several seconds.

“Nothing, Bolin… Everything’s jake.” Bolin shrugged and turned his attention back towards the ring after Mako resumed his beeline for the bar. Korra’s fists clenched tight in front of her face as she studied her opponent and he seemed to do the same. She became confused as several moments passed and there was no signal to start nor had the massive man started throwing punches. She looked around until she found Bolin on the other side of the wall.

“So, do we just start or-“ She did not get a chance to finish as a bell sounded and a rock-hard fist landed squarely on her temple.


	2. Get Me Bodied

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I'm really excited to write this story and I hope you all continue to enjoy it. Korrasami stuffs really pick up in the next chapter.

_Korra sat on the old wooden fence and swung her tiny legs as her father herded the last of the goats into the pen._

_“Papa? What do goats think about?” He laughed at the inquiry from her loud high-pitched voice._

_“Well, I don’t actually know. How about we find out?” The large man crouched down next to one of the goats that was happily munching away at the bale of hay. He took its long floppy ear between his large, calloused fingers and lifted it up before pressing his ear to the goat’s. He stood still and nodded for several seconds. “Grass, grass, and uh… yes, more grass!” Korra giggled before he quickly threw up his free hand. “Hold it! There’s something else… Yes, goat, I absolutely agree!” He smiled and left go of the goat’s ear, patting it briefly on the head before strolling over to where Korra sat._

_“What is it, papa? What did he say?” The large man picked up his young daughter and tossed her carefully into air above him, met with her delighted squeals and laughter, and caught her effortlessly as she came back down._

_“He said you’re the best and most adorable daughter any man could ask for.” She was still giggling as he held her tight to his barrel chest. The whining of a horse alerted them to a small group of uniformed strangers coming up the road. Her father’s expression suddenly became very dark and he stepped through the gate and out of the pen before setting her down._

_“Korra, get in the barn… Go!” She obeyed and ran to the barn on the other side of the pen and hid behind a bale of hay. She peered from behind the hay bale to watch her father fold his arms as the men approached._

_She could not hear what they were saying and did not understand what was going on but her father remained steadfast against them. She watched in horror as all but one of the men dismounted their horses and began to beat him with clubs until he collapsed on the ground. The man on the horse was saying something to her father as a few of the other men entered the pen, wrapped a rope around the neck of the goat they had been speaking to just minutes before and tied it to the saddle of one of their horses before they all climbed back on their mounts and rode away._

_Her father slowly pulled himself back to his feet and stumbled over to the barn, gripping the wooden fence of the goat pen for support. When he had made his way into the barn he slumped down on a bale of hay, groaning in pain. Korra stepped out from behind her hay bale to get a better look. Blood streamed down his face as he held his side and breathed heavily through gritted teeth. He opened his eyes to find his daughter standing on the other side of the barn looking at him with immense concern._

_“Korra… Come here…” He sat up as straight as he could, still holding his side, as she rushed to stand in front of him and placed her small hand on his knee._

_“Papa…”_

_“Korra, I’m going to teach you something really important, so listen carefully.” He groaned as he took off his gloves, discarding them on the floor beside them before taking Korra’s hands in his own, dwarfing them._

_“Listen, those men… They’re very very bad, Korra… And there’s going to be a day when I’m not here anymore and then you’re going to have to protect yourself… So, ball up your fists,” He rolled the tiny hands in his into fists guided her to hold them in front of herself, “Attagirl, just like that, and always bring your hands back to your face, you have to protect your face. Getting punched in the nose or eye is going to hurt more than anywhere else. All right, you ready?” She nodded as he balled his own fists, wincing at the pain in his side._

_“Okay, important lesson: let the other guy swing first. Why? Because the typical opponent is going to go straight for the face. So I’m going to swing to the left side of your head and I want you to dodge it, okay? Ready?” He pointed at the side he was going to aim for and very slowly reached his fist wide to Korra’s left._

 

———

 

Korra’s eyes flew back open just in time to avoid another one of Sheng’s punches to the side her already aching temple, quickly dodging under his arm to the painfully loud roaring of the crowd.

 

———

 

_The little girl easily ducked down, her tiny fists still tight in front of her face._

_“That’s right! Now what do you notice?” His other hand abandoned his bruised and bloodied face to gesture toward his torso. “I’ve left myself wide open, haven’t I?” Korra looked him up and down before nodding in understanding. “But you can’t just punch anywhere. All lot of these guys are going to be much bigger and stronger than you so you have to go for the weak spots, end it quickly. Okay?” She nodded again as he took her fist and guided it to its target._

_“See this spot right here? Anywhere along the bottom rib is good but right here at the corner… see, right here? See how soft and squishy that is? You want to hit that as hard as you can. Try that, duck then punch.”_

 

———

 

She ducked to avoid a left cross and found herself face to face with a bright orange tattoo of a snarling tiger right over the bottom corner of his ribs. She placed all of her power into her fist as it met the tiger with an audible crunch. The large man cried out and stepped back, lowering his fists over his chest.

 

———

 

_Even though Korra’s fist was very small, her father’s side was still badly bruised and he groaned at the contact and grabbed the bruise. Her eyes grew wide._

_“I’m sorry, Papa!”_

_“No no, Korra, that was very good, very very good. You see how I dropped my guard? I moved my hands to protect where it hurt. You always keep your fists over what you want to protect most, but I’m hurt, I instinctually go to cover my wound. What have I left wide open? Show me with you fist, sweetheart.”_

 

———

 

Korra took a step forward and launched herself at her opponent, her fist nailing him square in the jaw, his teeth clacked together at the contact and he groaned. She landed on her feet but was unable to move in time to avoid the fist that swung blindly in her direction and landed a hit on her shoulder. She jumped back and grabbed her shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze, keeping her other fist in front of her face. Bruised, but nothing broken. She ducked and side stepped to avoid a series of berserker swings.

 

———

 

_“C’mon, Korra! Think faster, sweetie. Show me what you’ve really got!” As Korra got older, friendly sparring became a typical activity between her and her father, particularly in the winter months when the evenings were long and there were no fields to tend to. She dove under his fist and landed three hits, one after the other, into his hard belly. He grunted and doubled back, holding his stomach in one hand and the stone mantle with the other. Her mother looked up from the pot she was stirring over the fire and glared at them both disapprovingly._

_“Korra, go easy on your papa, he’s not as young as he likes to think he is.” Korra dropped her fists and looked down sheepishly._

_“Sorry…”_

_“Ah, don’t listen to your ma,” her father laughed dismissively as he pushed himself off the mantle and lunged at her, “Rule number one, Korra, never lower your guard!”_

 

———

 

Korra dove under another recklessly thrown punch took a step to the side, turning lightly on her foot collide her left fist with the enormous man’s side. When he did not swing back right away she quickly added a few more jabs with alternating fists, gritting her teeth against the crunching of ribs beneath her knuckles.

She was so focused on beating his ribs to a pulp that she was not able to avoid the desperate elbow that collided with her cheek. The momentum of the jab combined with his weight spun her opponent around and he slumped against the wall, struggling to hold himself up. Korra recovered quickly and straightened herself out as her senses suddenly reawakened to the sheer volume in the room. The roar of the crowd had become beyond deafening.

 

———

 

_As Korra’s father got older, however, the less he was able to spar and the injuries from the occasional visits from the men with the horses began to take an even greater toll on his aging body. So she had to switch to punching grass-woven dummies in the general shape of a man that he helped her make when the day’s tasks were done. This was almost better, in a way, because she did not have to hold back against the dummies. She could use the full force of the strength her well-toned muscles had to offer. She spent her free time pounding the dummies until they flew off their stands._

_“Well don’t just stand there,” her father would coach her as he propped himself against the goat pen after a long day of work, “Your opponent is down but is he out? Finish him off!” She nodded and gave him a wide grin as she retrieved the fallen dummy. A few more punches to the chin and the head popped off and rolled into the muddy pen. Korra hopped the fence to pick the head back up but the goats had found it first and she looked at the half-eaten ball of grass in her hands with disappointment as her father laughed boisterously behind her._

 

———

 

Korra spit the blood that had begun to fill her cheek out onto the floor and wiped her mouth on her wrist before turning her attention back to her opponent who was still attempting to catch his breath despite his heavily damaged lung. When he saw her approaching he gritted his teeth against the pain and roared as he pushed himself off the wall to throw a lackluster punch that flew wide to Korra’s left. She went untouched as she landed hit after hit against his rugged face until he fell backwards against the wall and slid down into an unconscious lump, blood spilling from his mouth and forehead. The crowd had grown so loud, cheering, yelling, and banging on anything they could get their hands on, that she could not even hear herself as she walked over to the beaten and bloodied man and patted him roughly on the cheek.

“Sorry to really let you have it like that, but the way I hear it you sort of deserved it.” She had barely stood back up when someone wrapped their massive arms around her ribs from behind and lift her into an overly enthusiastic bear hug. She already knew it was Bolin from the tattoo on his forearm even before he set her back down and spun her around.

“Korra, that was incredible! I’ve never seen anything like that! You’re amazing!” She could hardly hear anything he was saying over the crowd but it was not hard to figure out.

He was still congratulating her loudly while swinging his fists around for emphasis when Korra peered over his shoulder and up at the railed overhang where the woman in the red dress watched from above. Her crimson lips closed and stretched into what could only be described as a seductive grin before turning around to return to her table, but not before Korra caught another brief flash of an emerald eye that just barely peeked out beneath her black veil.

“And then you were like, whoomp! Whoomp! Pow! To the kisser! I still can’t believe it! Sheng’s _the_ bimbo, the big six, and you whooped him like it was no big deal! I had no idea you were such a bearcat!” He did not stop talking for a second as he led her to the small door out of the ring, several men jumping over the wall behind them to tend to her opponent on the floor. She was surprised to find Bolin’s moody brother, Mako, offering her a hand up to the little door, his face almost as dumbfounded as all the others in the club.

“Wow, Korra, that was swell! That was the berries! That was something else!” Bolin continued as Korra picked her vest up off his arm (her shirt was nowhere to be seen but the way he was waving his arms she figured she was lucky he still had her vest) and slid it back on, not bothering to button it. Mako led them through a gauntlet of pats to Korra’s back and shoulders to a round, rickety wooden table and pulled out a chair for her. She slumped down on the hard, uneven chair and rubbed her cheek, the two brothers sitting down on either side of her. Bolin’s ramblings were interrupted by the bartender setting down a plate of steaming food and a large stein of beer in front of Korra.

“Compliments of the lady in red,” She looked at the food with wide eyes then back at him as he disappeared back into the crowd that had gathered around her table. She turned around in her seat and looked back in the direction of the fancy overhang and was able to peer between several shoulders to spot the mysterious woman. She raised her stein and gave the woman her best smile while still trying to come off as tough and cool. Someone stepped into her view for only a brief moment but when they moved again the woman was gone. 

Korra blinked in bewilderment before turning back around and chugging the beer. More impressed cheers and whistles sounded as she slammed the stein back down on the table and set in on devouring her plate of sausages and potatoes, suddenly aware of how painfully hungry she was. She had just shoved half of one of the large sausages into her own mouth when a voice called over all the other voices.

“This is baloney!” Korra swallowed her food hard and looked up to find a young man with well kept waving hair push his way to the table accompanied by two other young men. “Absolute baloney. How does some tomato from who-knows-where beat Sheng the Destroyer?” She squeezed her brows together and stood up balling her fists in front of her.

“Why don’t you come find out, pretty boy?” Mako and Bolin stood up quickly when the two men behind the talkative one pulled knives from their belts.

“Stay out of this, I lost a lot of dough tonight because this damn Jane.”

“That’s gambling, Tahno, get a new hobby.” Mako spoke threateningly as he balled his own fists, Bolin following his lead, before turning to Korra and speaking softly enough that only she and his brother could hear him, “We’ve got the other two if you want the jackass.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.” She nodded once without taking her eyes off the skinny young man on the other side of the table.

“You two have made a grave mistake getting between me and this dame-“

“IT’S THE BULL!” Every head turned to find Toza, the old man from the front door, running down the stairs pursued by several uniformed men. One of the men pounded him the back of the head and he tumbled down the rest of the stairs. Chaos erupted as several shots were fired into the ceiling and more and more officers rushed in.

Korra’s lungs and heart stopped working at the sound of the gunshots and before she even knew what she was doing she was rushing through the panicking crowd towards the exit. She hopped up several stairs before she was tackled from behind, her forehead banging against the sharp edge of the stairs. She cried out in pain as she was pulled back up to her feet and dragged up the stairs by two officers, one in front pulling on the front of her vest and one behind, cuffing her hands together. She looked over her shoulder at the chaos behind her but the woman in red was still nowhere to be seen.


End file.
